Shortarmguy's Inspirational Page
On this page, I will post the most inspirational material I receive on any given day. So email shortarmguy@aol.com the best stuff you get. Life can be darn tough sometimes and every now and then you might need a little happiness booster. I’m hoping this page may accomplish that. After you read a few of these, you can push back from your keyboard, throw your arms in the air, wave them back and forth and scream “I’m glad to be alive!” If this happens to you, please send pictures and I’ll post them here!
March 29, 2003
Trying To Help – by Dennis Miller
All the rhetoric on whether or not we should go to war against Iraq has got my insane little brain spinning like a roulette wheel. I enjoy reading opinions from both sides but have detected a hint of confusion from some of you.
As I was reading the paper recently, I was reminded of the best advice someone ever gave me. He told me about the KISS method (“Keep It Simple, Stupid!) so, with this as a theme, I’d like to apply this theory for those who don’t quite get it. My hope is that we can simplify things a bit and recognize a few important facts.
Here are 10 things to consider when voicing an opinion on this important issue:
1) Between President Bush and Saddam Hussein … Hussein is the bad guy.
2) If you have faith in the United Nations to do the right thing, keep this in mind, they have Libya heading the Committee on Human Rights and Iraq heading the Global Disarmament Committee. Do your own math here.
3) If you use Google search and type in “French Military Victories,” your reply will be “Did you mean French Military Defeats?”
4) If your only anti-war slogan is “NO WAR FOR OIL,” sue your school district for allowing you to slip through the cracks and robbing you of the education you deserve.
5) Saddam and Bin Laden will not seek United Nations approval before they try to kill us.
6) Despite common belief, Martin Sheen is not the President. He only plays one on TV.
7) Even if you are anti-war, you are still an “Infidel” and Bin Laden wants you dead too.
8) If you believe in a “vast right-wing Conspiracy” but not in the danger that Hussein poses, quit hanging out with the Dell computer dude.
9) We are not trying to liberate them.
10) Whether you are for military action or against it, our young men and women overseas are fighting for us to defend our right to speak out. We all need to support them without reservation.
I hope this helps.
March 22, 2003
TWINKIES, ROOT BEER AND GOD
There once was a little boy who wanted to meet God. He knew it was a long
trip to where God lived, so he packed his suitcase with Twinkies and a
six-pack of root beer, and started on his journey.
When he had gone about three blocks, he met an old man sitting in the park
watching the pigeons. The boy sat down next to him and opened his suitcase.
He took out a root beer, and offered one to the old man. The old man
gratefully accepted it and smiled at him. His smile was so incredible that
the little boy wanted to see it again, so he offered him a Twinkie. Once,
again, he smiled at him. The boy was delighted! They sat there all
afternoon, eating and smiling, but they never said a word. As it grew dark,
the boy realized how tired he was and he got up to leave; but before he had
gone more than a few steps, he turned around, ran back to the old man, and
gave him a hug.
The old man gave him his biggest smile ever.
When the little boy opened the door to his house a short time later, his
mother was surprised by the look of joy on his face. She asked him, “What
did you do today that made you so happy?”
He replied, “I had lunch with God.” Before his mother could respond, he
added, “You know what? He’s got the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen!”
Meanwhile the old man, also radiant with joy, returned to his home. His son
was stunned by the look of peace on his face and asked, “Father, what did
you do today that made you so happy?”
He replied, “I ate Twinkies in the park with God.” Before his son could
respond, he added, “You know, He’s much younger than I expected.”
Have lunch with God!
March 16, 2003
ATTITUDE
The 92-year-old, petite, well-poised and proud lady, who is fully dressed each morning by eight o’clock, with her hair fashionably coifed and makeup perfectly applied, even though she is legally blind, moved to a nursing home today. Her husband of 70 years recently passed away, making the move necessary.
After many hours of waiting patiently in the lobby of the nursing home, she smiled sweetly when told her room was ready. As she maneuvered her walker to the elevator, I provided a visual description of her tiny room, including the eyelet sheets that had been hung on her window. “I love it,” she stated with the enthusiasm of an eight-year-old having just been presented with a new puppy. “Mrs. Jones, you haven’t seen the room …. just wait.” “That doesn’t have anything to do with it,” she replied. “Happiness is something you decide on ahead of time. Whether I like my room or not doesn’t depend on how the furniture is arranged … it’s how I arrange my mind. I already decided to love it … “It’s a decision I make every morning when I wake up. I have a choice; I can spend the day in bed recounting the difficulty I have with the parts of my body that no longer work, or get out of bed and be thankful for the ones that do. Each day is a gift, and as long as my eyes open I’ll focus on the new day and all the happy memories I’ve stored away … just for this time in my life.
Old age is like a bank account … you withdraw from what you’ve put in. So, my advice to you would be to deposit a lot of happiness in the bank account of memories. Thank you for your part in filling my memory bank. I am still depositing.”
Remember the five simple rules to be happy:
- Free your heart from hatred.
- Free your mind from worries.
- Live simply.
- Give more.
- Expect less.
No one can go back and make a brand new start. Anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending. God didn’t promise days without pain, laughter without sorrow, sun without rain, but He did promise strength for the day, comfort for the tears, and light for the way.
When you feel down because you didn’t get what you want, just sit tight and be happy, because God has thought of something better to give you. It’s better to lose your pride to the one you love, than to lose the one you love because of pride.
May today there be peace within you. May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be.
“I believe that friends are quiet angels who lift us to our feet when our wings have trouble remembering how to fly.”
March 9, 2003
—–Mother’s Little Angel
There came a frantic knock
At the doctor’s office door,
A knock, more urgent than
he had ever heard before.
“Come in, Come in,”
the impatient doctor said,
“Come in, Come in,
before you wake the dead.”
In walked a frightened little girl,
a child no more than nine,
It was plain for all to see,
she had troubles on her mind.
“Oh doctor, I beg you,
please come with me,
My mother is surely dying,
she’s as sick as she can be.”
“I don’t make house calls,
bring your mother here,”
“But she’s too sick,
so you must come or she will die I fear.”
The doctor, touched by her devotion,
decided he would go,
She said he would be blessed,
more than he could know.
She led him to her house
where her mother lay i! n bed,
Her mother was so very sick
she couldn’t raise her head.
But her eyes cried out for help
and help her the doctor did,
She would have died that very night
had it not been for her kid.
The doctor got her fever down
and she lived through the night,
And morning brought the doctor signs,
that she would be all right.
The doctor said he had to leave
but would return again by two,
And later he came back to check,
just like he said he’d do.
The mother praised the doctor
for all the things he’d done,
He told her she would have died,
were it not for her little one.
“How proud you must be
of your wonderful little girl,
It was her pleading that made me come,
she is really quite a pearl!
“But doctor, my daughter died
over three years ago,
Is the picture on the wall
of the little girl you know?”
The doctors legs went limp
for the picture on the wall! ,
Was the same little girl
for whom he’d made this call.
The doctor stood motionless,
for quite a little while,
And then his solemn face,
was broken by his smile.
He was thinking of that frantic knock
heard at his office door,
And of the beautiful little angel
that had walked across his floor.
—Chuck Sullivan
March 2, 2003
I believe…
That our background and circumstances may have influenced who we are, but we are responsible for whom we become.
That no matter how good a friend is, they’re going to hurt you every once in a while and you must forgive them for that.
That just because someone doesn’t love you the way you want them to doesn’t mean they don’t love you with all they have.
That true friendship continues to grow, even over the longest distance. Same goes for true love.
That it’s taking me a long time to become the person I want to be.
That you should always leave loved ones with loving words. It may be the last time you see them.
That you can keep going, long after you can’t.
That we are responsible for what we do, no matter how we feel.
That either you control your attitude or it controls you.
That heroes are the people who do what has to be done when it needs to be done, regardless of the consequences.
That money is a lousy way of keeping score.
That my best friend and I can do anything or nothing and have the best time.
That sometimes the people you expect to kick you when you’re down, will be the ones to help you get back up.
That sometimes when I’m angry I have the right to be angry, but that doesn’t give me the right to be cruel.
That maturity has more to do with what types of experiences you’ve had and what you’ve learned from them and less to do with how many birthdays you’ve celebrated.
That it isn’t always enough to be forgiven by others. Sometimes you have to learn to forgive yourself.
That no matter how bad your heart is broken the world doesn’t stop for your grief.
That just because two people argue, it doesn’t mean they don’t love each other and just because they don’t argue, it doesn’t mean they do.
That you shouldn’t be so eager to find out a secret. It could change your life forever.
That two people can look at the exact same thing and see something totally different.
That your life can be changed in a matter of hours by people who don’t even know you.
That even when you think you have no more to give, when a friend cries out to you, you will find the strength to help.
That credentials on the wall do not make you a decent human being.
That the people you care about most in life are taken from you too soon.
February 22, 2003
At the prodding of my friends, I am writing this story.
My name is Mildred Hondorf. I am a former elementary school music teacher from Des Moines, Iowa. I’ve always supplemented my income by teaching piano lessons- something I’ve done for over 30 years.
Over the years I found that children have many levels of musical ability. I’ve never had the pleasure of having a protégé though I have taught some talented students. However I’ve also had my share of what I call “musically challenged” pupils. One such student was Robby.
Robby was 11 years old when his mother (a single mom) dropped him off for his first piano lesson. I prefer that students (especially boys!) begin at an earlier age, which I explained to Robby. But Robby said that it had always been his mother’s dream to hear him play the piano. So I took him as a student.
Well, Robby began with his piano lessons and from the beginning I thought it was a hopeless endeavor. As much as Robby tried, he lacked the sense of tone and basic rhythm needed to excel. But he dutifully reviewed his scales and some elementary pieces that I require all my students to learn.
Over the months he tried and tried while I listened and cringed and tried to encourage him. At the end of each weekly lesson he’d always say, “My mom’s going to hear me play someday.” But it seemed hopeless. He just did not have any inborn ability. I only knew his mother from a distance as she dropped Robby off or waited in her aged car to pick him up. She always waved and smiled but never stopped in. Then one day Robby stopped coming to our lessons. I thought about calling him but assumed because of his lack of ability, that he had decided to pursue something else. I also was glad that he stopped coming. He was a bad advertisement for my teaching!
Several weeks later I mailed to the student’s homes a flyer on the upcoming recital. To my surprise Robby (who received a flyer) asked me if he could be in the recital. I told him that the recital was for current pupils and because he had dropped out he really did not qualify. He said that his mother had been sick and unable to take him to piano lessons but he was still practicing. “Miss Hondorf . . . I’ve just got to play!” he insisted. I don’t know what led me to allow him to play in the recital. Maybe it was his persistence or maybe it was something inside of me saying that it would be all right.
The night for the recital came. The high school gymnasium was packed with parents, friends and relatives. I put Robby up last in the program before I was to come up and thank all the students and play a finishing piece. I thought that any damage he would do would come at the end of the program and I could always salvage his poor performance through my “curtain closer.”
Well the recital went off without a hitch. The students had been practicing and it showed. Then Robby came up on stage. His clothes were wrinkled and his hair looked like he’d run an eggbeater through it. “Why didn’t he dress up like the other students?” I thought. “Why didn’t his mother at least make him comb his hair for this special night?”
Robby pulled out the piano bench and he began. I was surprised when he announced that he had chosen Mozart’s Concerto #21 in C Major. I was not prepared for what I heard next. His fingers were light on the keys, they even danced nimbly on the ivories. He went from pianissimo to fortissimo . . . from allegro to virtuoso. His suspended chords that Mozart demands were magnificent! Never had I heard Mozart played so well by people his age. After six and a half minutes he ended in a grand crescendo and everyone was on their feet in wild applause.
Overcome and in tears I ran up on stage and put my arms around Robby in joy.
“I’ve never heard you play like that Robby! How’d you do it?”
Through the microphone Robby explained: “Well Miss Hondorf . . remember I told you my mom was sick? Well, actually she had cancer and passed away this morning. And well . . . . she was born deaf so tonight was the first time she ever heard me play. I wanted to make it special.”
There wasn’t a dry eye in the house that evening. As the people from Social Services led Robby from the stage to be placed into foster care, I noticed that even their eyes were red and puffy and I thought to myself how much richer my life had been for taking Robby as my pupil.
No, I’ve never had a protege, but that night I became a protege . .of Robby’s. He was the teacher and I was the pupil For it is he that taught me the meaning of perseverance and love and believing in yourself and maybe even taking a chance in someone and you don’t know why.
Robby was killed in the senseless bombing of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City in April of 1995, where he was reportedly. . . . playing the piano.
February 15, 2003
This question, “Why attack Iraq now?”, has been bothering me recently. It
seems to go against the grain for us to be in a “first strike” role against
a tinhorn dictator like Saddam Hussein.
For possible clarification, I posed this question to a friend of mine from
church who is a retired USN Admiral.
Here are his thoughts, but in my words:
Al Qaeda, Hamas and associated terrorists of the world are out to get the US
in a big way. They proved with the Sept 11 attack that they are capable of
a major strike. This just whetted their appetite for an escalation to the
next level.
There is a strong likelihood that the next level will not be a similar
attack that takes out 2,800 people, but leaves no long-lasting damage. Next
time they will probably take their time and go for a strike that will try to
take out a major US city.
It could be a dirty bomb, with combination radiation and/or biological
agents, exploded near a major city, such as from a container ship in the
Hudson River, or San Francisco or Baltimore harbors. It would not even have
to be unloaded, and we don’t have the technology to detect it in advance.
And they are likely to have several such strikes in the works, in case one
or two are discovered.
We are talking about a “first strike” by them that will, for all practical
purposes, seem like a last strike to us. It will do so much damage to our
economy, and several hundred thousand people, that the war is over as far as
the terrorists are concerned, and they won. We will only be left to wonder
who did it and who to bomb in retaliation.
So the notion that we are not a “first strike” country becomes a death
sentence for us, if we allow this to happen first, before we take action.
The terrorists will have a very difficult time pulling this off without the
help of a small industrial complex. The current providers of such a complex
to the terrorists are Syria, Iran, North Korea and Iraq.
From among these, Iraq and North Korea have the least stable leadership, and
Iraq is the one with the most proven attempts to develop weapons of the type
that terrorists would like to have.
It is reasonable to think that our national leaders believe that we must
prove to all these countries that we are not going to sit by waiting on
Armageddon. We need to stop the terrorist supporters now, and we need to
show the other terrorist supporters what is in store for them if we feel we
need to hit them to protect our national interests.
Terrorists have no allegiance to a particular country, so they don’t fear
retaliation by the US. The old cold-war standoff is no longer operative.
The terrorists probably consider a nuclear retaliation against one or more
of these supporting countries just the cost of war. They, and their
supporting countries, also know that the US will not just heave a few nukes
onto a Baghdad in retaliation, killing a couple of million innocent civilians.
The terrorists are also not members of the UN. Our discussions there are
just a comedy to the terrorists. Remember, you can’t make deals with those
that obey no rules.
So the US must act now in every way possible to stop the possibility of such
an attack against the US. Part of that action is to deny the terrorists the
support of these rogue countries. If a rogue country’s leadership is so
unstable that they might sell/give the terrorists the weapons, then we must
stop it now. Iraq is such a country. A measured, non-nuclear attack on Iraq
may cause the others to cease their support of the terrorists in such a
dangerous way. It also may cause the least civilian casualties of all the alternatives.
We must make it clear to the terror-supporting countries that there will be
a price to pay, and that a nuclear retaliation, which we are unlikely to
use, is not the only option open to us.
I think President Bush understands he cannot let a first strike happen, and
that nuclear retaliation is no longer a threat. We must go after the
terrorists, and their supporters and suppliers, now.
A history lesson:
Do you know why the US was in such a rush to develop the atomic bomb in
WWII? It’s not because we simply wanted such a weapon. It’s because
concerned physicists, including German refugee, Albert Einstein, warned
Roosevelt in writing that the Germans had the most capable physicist in the
field of nuclear physics, Nobel Prize winner, Werner Heisenberg, and he was
known to have a laboratory working on such a device. We knew what would
happen if he was the first to have such a weapon.
Think about it, if Hitler had the A-bomb first.
I believe we are in a similar race today against the terrorists. The war
has begun, so the “don’t go to war” crowd apparently has a misunderstanding
of what we are up against. We are at war today. Our country was similarly
divided just before Pearl Harbor and our entry into WWII.
A modern-day “Pearl Harbor” is likely a surprise that is unacceptable to us.
February 9, 2003
I want you to close your eyes and picture in your mind the soldier at Valley Forge, as he holds his musket in his bloody hands.
He stands barefoot in the snow, starved from lack of food, wounded from months of battle and emotionally scarred from the eternity away from his family surrounded by nothing but death and carnage of war.
He stands tough, with fire in his eyes and victory on his breath. He looks at us now in anger and disgust and tells us this…
I gave you a birthright of freedom born in the Constitution and now your children graduate too illiterate to read it. I fought in the snow barefoot to give you the freedom to vote and you stay at home because it rains.
I left my family destitute to give you the freedom of speech and you remain silent on critical issues, because it might be bad for business.
I orphaned my children to give you a government to serve you and it has stolen democracy from the people.
It’s the soldier not the reporter who gives you the freedom of the press.
It’s the soldier not the poet who gives you the freedom of speech.
It’s the soldier not the campus organizer who allows you to demonstrate.
It’s the soldier who salutes the flag, serves the flag, whose coffin is draped with the flag that allows the protester to burn the flag !!!
“Lord, hold our troops in your loving hands. Protect them as they protect us. Bless them and their families for the selfless acts they perform for us in our time of need. Amen.”
February 2, 2003
Sally jumped up as soon as she saw the Surgeon come out of the operating room.
She said: “How is my little boy? Is he going to be O.K.? When can I see him?”
The Surgeon said, “I’m sorry, we did all we could.”
Sally said, “Why do little children get cancer, doesn’t GOD care anymore? GOD, where were you when my son needed you?”
The Surgeon said, “One of the nurses will be out in a few minutes to let you spend time with your son’s remains before it’s transported to the university.”
Sally asked that the nurse stay with her while she said Good-bye to her son.
Sally ran her fingers through his thick red curly hair.
The nurse said, “Would you like a lock of his hair?” Sally nodded yes.
The nurse cut a lock of his hair and put it in a plastic bag and handed it to Sally.
Sally said, “It was Jimmy’s idea to give his body to the university for study. He said it might help somebody else,” and that is what he wanted. I said, No at first, but Jimmy said, “Mom I won’t be using it after I die, maybe it will help some other little boy to be able to spend one more day with his mother”. Sally said, “My Jimmy had a heart of Gold, always thinking of someone else and always wanting to help others if he could”.
Sally walked out of the Children’s Hospital for the last time now after spending most of the last 6 months there. She sat the bag with Jimmy’s things in it on the seat beside of her in the car. The drive home was hard and it was even harder to go into an empty house. She took the bag to Jimmy’s room and started placing the model cars and things back in his room exactly Where he always kept them. She laid down across his bed and cried herself to sleep holding his pillow.
Sally woke up about midnight and laying beside of her on the bed, was a letter folded up. She opened the letter, it said:
Dear Mom:
I know your going to miss me, but don’t think that I will ever forget you or stop loving you because I’m not around to say I LOVE YOU. I’ll think of you every day Mom and I’ll love you even more each day. Someday we will see each other again.
If you want to adopt a little boy so you won’t be so lonely, he can have my room and my old stuff to play with. If you decide to get a girl instead, she probably wouldn’t like the same things as us boys do, so you will have to buy her dolls and stuff girls like.
Don’t be sad when you think about me, this is really a great place.
Grandma and Grandpa met me as soon as I got here and showed me around some, but it will take a long time to see everything here. The angels are so friendly, I love to watch them fly. Jesus doesn’t look like any of the pictures I saw of Him, but I knew it was Him as soon as I saw Him. Jesus took me to see GOD! And guess what Mom? I got to sit on GOD’S knee and talk to Him like I was somebody important.
I told GOD that I wanted to write you a letter and tell you Good-bye and everything, but I knew that wasn’t allowed. God handed me some paper and His own personal pen to write you this letter with. I think Gabriel is the name of the angel that is going to drop this letter off to you.
God said for me to give you the answer to one of the questions you asked Him about. Where was He when I needed him? God said, “The same place He was when Jesus was on the cross. He was right there, as He always is with all His children.
Oh, by the way Mom, nobody else can see what is written on this paper but you. To everyone else, it looks like a blank piece of paper. I have to give God His pen back now, he has some more names to write in the Book Of Life.
Tonight I get to sit at the table with Jesus for Supper. I’m sure the food will be great.
I almost forgot to let you know – Now I don’t hurt anymore, the cancer is all gone. I’m glad because I couldn’t stand that pain anymore and God couldn’t stand to see me suffer the pain either, so He sent The Angel of Mercy to get me.
The Angel said I was Special Delivery!
Signed with love from: God & Jesus & Me.
Author Unknown
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